ASPS
by Precambrian Studios
Summary: A spinoff of "We Are One" / crossover with "The Hallowed Halls of Fielding." Herein lie the exploits of four students of the Fielding Preparatory Academy as they survive idiots as well as each other, and pulling the occasional prank along the way.
1. Chapter 1

-This is a multi-purpose story. It's a spinoff of "We Are One," as well as tribute/crossover with Roentgen's "The Hallowed Halls of Fielding." But it introduces a group of characters I've personally grown to love. Enjoy!

Ethan Dressler sat on his couch in his dorm room. As usual, he relaxed in his business suit, something that had made him the object of envy from other boarders: it seemed like he had unlimited Ditch Days. In fact he did; his father had made a vast, anonymous donation (except in which the headmaster was concerned) to the school, which gave his son more than a few exclusive privileges. He was reading a book on psychology that had a foreword by Anthony Hopkins (which of course was absolutely useless, but what nutcase doesn't want Hannibal Lecter to grace the first page of a book?) The topic he was examining was fascinating, but unfortunately, not enough to keep him from tearing his eyes away from the book when fellow ASP member Wehrung barged in (he had never given Ethan his first name, which was fine, because Ethan always referred to people by their last names, except for his sister). Wehrung may have been one of Fielding's more gruesome-looking students: his ravaged left eye was covered in cloth bandages (which he insisted on re-applying daily), that amazingly didn't distract from his overly-large nose. He was eagerly bouncing up and down like a small child.

"Ethan, you have to come with me, you won't believe what Michelle and Gage are about to do," he enthused.

"Oh, I doubt it," Ethan replied sarcastically.

Michelle Smith, Wehrung, Gage Thystun, and Ethan were all part of the ASPS: a secret club withing Fielding that had been created a few years prior by current "Other" Annette Grimes. The club that was exclusive to Fielding members with Asperger's syndrome. No staff member had ever heard of the club. Members were threatened with unspeakably heinous things should they expose its existence. Each member of the current club membership had their own unique quirks, but they all displayed distant, anti-social behaviors with students outside the club. They possessed their own badges that they all wore underneath their uniforms: a golden circle with a large asp on it, that read below, 'Very Dangerous.' The club's activities usually included crafting elaborate chess plans, re-enacting _The Silence of the Lambs_, but most often, playing elaborate pranks on the Tops.

Wehrung perseverated. "No dude, seriously, you have to come right now."

"Does my life depend on it?"

"Well, no."

"Go away, Wehrung." Ethan turned his attention back to his book.

Wehrung was about to give up, but he quickly decided to exploit Ethan's fear of unexcitement: "But your life will not be complete if you stay."

Ethan gave him a dirty look, sighed, and finally put down the book. Wehrung bounced enthusiastically once more. "Awesome! Follow me." He jogged off. Giving an exasperated sigh at his long-gone compatriot, Ethan ran after him.

XXXX

Wehrung led the now-panting Ethan to his room. Scattered around the floor was an assortment of dirty pieces of clothing. The room's walls were rotten and old since the room itself was one of the oldest parts of Underhill, but it had a balcony on it, something Wehrung loved dearly. Usually, it was used as a vantage point to let gravity accelerate his spit upon passing students.

Ethan clutched his chest with one hand, and the railing with the other. "Okay, so why the hell did you make me run all the way here?" he breathed.

Wehrung smiled, and withdrew a walkie-talkie from underneath his uniform. He handed Ethan a pair of binoculars he always kept on the balcony's table.

"Breaker, breaker, Gage, you there?"

The talkie gave a buzz. "Loud and clear."

"Michelle with you?"

"I'm here," came her voice. "You have Ethan?"

"Yeah, but if he takes another jog I'm afraid he'll have to depart from the world of the living," he said while smiling. Ethan gave him a look of pure distaste, and snatched the talkie away.

"All right, please tell me while you made our one-eyed errand boy drag me all the way here so I can go? Please, before the smell of his pigsty kills me."

"Hey!"

"Can you see us through the binoculars?" Gage asked.

"Where are you?" Ethan inquired.

"Right across from you."

He peered through them. Across the courtyard, two stories up, was Gage, holding up his video camera, and Michelle, the first female member of the ASPS since Annette.

Gage was a closet homosexual. At least, that's what all the other froshes said about him, due to his love for clothing design and other forms of art. He never particularly cared about this reputation, but eventually told Ethan he was straight, as he said he was worried that he thought Ethan might get ideas, which earned him a friendly punch in the jaw. If Ethan ever got depressed, Gage would write him up a story of death and misery to raise his spirits. Gage wore eyeliner and had several ear-piercings that gave him an emo look.

Michelle was a few inches shy of Ethan (who was 6ft three), and brown-haired. Out of all of them, she enjoyed playing pranks the most. She was also legally blind; this trait usually saved her from being bullied by the other cold-hearted students, but if they were unwise enough to test her, she would leave a thin mark across their faces with her custom aluminum cane that would sting. Badly.

Ethan noticed the video camera, which Gage was dutifully peering through. "What's that for?" he asked.

He could see Gage grin. "It was Michelle's idea. You tell him."

She took his talkie. "We sent a letter to Sue Bentley's room. It contained elaborate details about an orgy that will occur in precisely one minute, in the dorm right below Wehrung's. Above the door is a bucket of diluted green slime that will pour its contents upon her when she opens it. Wehrung went and unlocked the door for us."

Ethan glanced down. He couldn't even see the door. How disappointing. He always wanted to see Bentley suffer. "So why are Wehrung and I up here?"

"Yeah, Wehrung," Michelle asked, slightly confused. "Why did you bring him to your room?"

"I thought it wouldn't look suspicious."

"We're over here with a camera and you didn't want to look suspicious?"

Wehrung's face sagged. "You're right." He slapped his forehead. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he reprimanded himself.

Gage's voice came back. "It's okay, man. We're getting it all on film."

"Look, this is neat and all," Ethan admitted, "But it's very formulaic and we're bound to be discovered."

Michelle spoke. "We're only going to get her initial reaction on tape; we won't be seen, don't worry. I typed that letter, so no handwriting can be ID'd. I slipped it under her door at midnight, and I had gloves on. Foolproof."

"I admire you for being so careful, Smith."

"Don't praise me just yet. I haven't even gotten to the best part."

"Oh?"

Through the scopes, he could see her smile. "A few minutes ago, Gage called the headmaster using his Eastwood impression at the payphone downstairs with gloves on, so no fingerprints on the receiver. He told him that the J87 samples had been converted to liquid form, were stolen, and would be used on a student within the next half-hour."

Ethan gave a brief laugh. He was impressed: the J87 samples were a new super-strain developed in one of Fielding's secret underground science labs. It was a combination of rabies, Gonorrhea, three types of Hepatitis, and the Black Plague. Of course, converting it to liquid form was impossible, but the headmaster was known for the size of his wallet and not his cranium.

"Once Bentley starts screaming, campus security will be all over her."

"This is the best thing since we slipped a snake into Sloane's room," Ethan declared. He smiled, now eager to see the results of this prank. "Smith, I'm so sorry you won't be able to see this."

"Nah, it's fine. I'll take the satisfaction from knowing I will have ruined the social life of Sue Bentley. The uber-bitch."

"I see her!" Wehrung said into the talkie. "Gage, start rolling."

"Recording," came the reply.

Ethan watched as one of the most pretty, popular, and detestable girls of Fielding Prep strode up to the Underhill door, expecting to soon be receiving an entire series of orgasms. She opened the door. "AAAAAAAAAH! MY UNIFORM!"

Wehrung and Ethan both put their fists in their mouths to contain their laughter, and could hear Michelle's delighted giggling and Gage's satisfied snap of the fingers as he said into his talkie, "That's a wrap!"


	2. Ear Poison

"I don't see why we have to dress up in odd costumes on a particular day appointed by society," Ethan bemoaned as Gage sewed him up into his costume.

"Because," Wehrung said, looking at himself in the mirror, admiring Gage's Nick Fury costume. "Any other day and campus security would tackle you to the ground. Costume or not, it's only a matter of time anyways."

"Ha ha, cyclops."

"Very funny, Bryan Cox."

Ethan angrily shook in his straitjacket. "I am Anthony Hopkins, dammit!"

As he strapped Ethan to the hand-truck, Gage asked, "Ethan, what if you have to use the toilet?"

"There's an apparatus in my underwear."

Wehrung crossed his arms and smirked. "You're lying."

_Indeed. Very observant of you._ Ethan gave a halfhearted cough, and said in a challenging tone, "Poke it and find out, Polyphemus."

"Hey! Polyphemus is a big fat ugly cyclops!"

"Well, the first two are wrong."

Even Wehrung laughed at the jibe. "Good one. I'll let it go because you look pretty miserable in that thing."

"Miserable? Me?" Gage put on the muzzle, muffling Ethan's voice somewhat. "Rather, my dear colleague, I am as happy as can be."

"Yeah, you show it too." Wehrung checked his watch. "Gage, we have to go in five minutes."

Gage quickly grabbed his costume and ducked into the bathroom. "I'll be out in two!"

XXXX

They were certainly an odd trio to behold: strolling up to Eldrich-Wayne, Nick Fury, wielding a very pink Nerf gun (in order to appease the security), escorting Charlie Chaplin, who was pushing along Doctor Hannibal Lecter in his hand-truck.

They could hear the music from miles away. "Ugh, Will Smitih..." groaned Ethan. He made gagging sounds.

Gage chuckled. "Maybe in the future, they should just play boring stock music instead."

"Yes, please," Ethan moaned.

Wehrung rolled his eye. "You're such a wimp, man."

"I thought you were giving me a free pass."

"I lied."

"I love this club."

They walked inside the gym. Hundreds of costumed students 'rocked out' to the newest, hippest music. And they all made sure to maintain a six-pace distance from the three newcomers.

Gage scanned the crowd. "Anybody see Michelle?"

Wehrung jumped to get a better view. "Nope. She said she'd be wearing something yellow...oh! She's over by the speakers."

Ethan used the only neck muscles available to him to nod in her direction. "Let's go."

Carefully maneuvering around the flailing limbs and frocks, they eventually were able to make it over to Michelle. Leaning boredly against a speaker, she wore a yellow Star Trek uniform and had a home-made VISOR on.

Ethan yelled, "Smith!"

She didn't move. Gage pointed at his ear. "She has ear-plugs in!"

Wehrung walked up to her and poked her shoulder. She removed a plug. "Yeah?!"

"It's us! Do you have it?!" Wehrung screamed above the roar of the speakers.

"Yeah! You guys ready to see some chaos?!"

"Damn straight!" The trio replied.

Michelle handed Wehrung a disc. Quickly, he withdrew a laptop from under his costume, sat on the floor, put in the disk, and began entering commands. The other boarders, dressed up in their trendy, popular costumes, did not pay any heed to the outcasts.

"Done!" Wehrung stood up. "In ten seconds, we shall introduce culture to our poor, deprived peers!"

Moments later, 'Getting Jiggy With It' was replaced by Italian opera.

The effect was instantaneous. First there were confused glances. Then angered protests. Finally came the tortured wails, followed by gnashing of teeth, stomping of feet, and overall hysteria. Drinks were thrown, food was tossed. With any luck, any Tops, who were usually in the literal center of any dance, would get PTSD from the inevitable stampede.

Michelle sighed. "It's music to my ears."

Gage said, "I think this is our magnum opus."

"I concur," Wehrung added.

"I have to urinate," Ethan whined.


End file.
